


Achayot

by Aisling227



Series: Fantastic Beasts [2]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Married Tina Goldstein/Newt Scamander, Post-Movie 2: Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald, Theseus is a good brother in law, Tina centric, a bit of angst, ok a lot of angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-01-12 05:50:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18440324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aisling227/pseuds/Aisling227
Summary: Three years have passed since Père Lachaise. Many have moved on.Not her, not really.Not ever.***OR: Tina's actions in getting back her sister.





	1. Guadalajara

**Author's Note:**

> OK, this is gonna be semi-long, I hope. The storyline has been stewing away in my mind for months, and I've finally got some typed down, so I thought I would share what I have with you.
> 
> (Most likely will be updated sporadically, sorry.)
> 
> ***
> 
> NOTE: The title means 'sisters' in Hebrew, if anyone was wondering.

 

“Full name, please.”

 

Tina sighed, rolling her eyes. “You know my name, Percy-”

 

“Full name,” he repeated, same tone.

 

“You were at my wedding, you know my-”

 

“Full. Name.” She sighed again, in defeat. Tina should have known better than to think she could stop Percival Graves, of all people, from getting what he wanted. Even if what he wanted was to hear the abomination that was her name.

 

“Fine,” she said. “Porpentina Esther Scamander.” she paused for a moment. “Née Goldstein.”

 

Graves smiled.

 

It was certainly peculiar, especially now with that new surname she had. The majority of American wizards were giving their kids 'normal' names -at least by no-maj standards- to blend in more, protect the Statute of Secrecy, and all. But not the Goldsteins. No, normal wasn't in their dictionary, it seemed, so instead of simply naming their daughter Tina like a reasonable person would, they instead decided to honour their favourite animal, the porcupine, and burden their child with Porpentina. Mocking and teasing and whatever else she couldn't remember followed suit, hovering above her like a dark cloud that wouldn't go away. Tina never resented her parents for their decision; at the end of the day they never found out about the torment their daughter felt at the hand of one word.

 

“Now, Mrs Scamander,” Graves said, pulling her out of her thoughts, “why exactly were you in Mexico?”

 

“Well, I-”

 

“Alone, with no other Aurors _?_ ” Tina sighed in frustration – she knew Graves understood why she left to Mexico with no word to the Ministry, she knew he did.

 

And yet here they were, sitting in his office at MACUSA Headquarters, still surprisingly unsurprised that he found her in Guadalajara chasing down another lost cause, and dragged back to America for interrogation. _Not exactly the way I imagined being back home,_ she had thought to herself. She gave Graves a telling look, and he gazed back at her, knowing, as always, what she meant, but he continued nonetheless.

 

“Tina,” he said, “you and I both know this will go faster if you co-operate with me.” She sighed again and her mouth slimmed down to a firm line.

 

* * *

 

_Guadalajara was not what Tina was expecting- no-maj cars jostled alongside trams which gave no warning of their movement, and the streets were lined with buildings torn straight from London's own cobbled roads. It felt more familiar to her than she ever thought it would be, although that didn't help in acclimatising. The white stone of buildings seemed to glow from the heat that bounced off them, scorching the pavement to the point where she needed to check her shoes hadn't softened too much, and had abandoned her Auror's jacket long ago - she was practically searing under the Sun, but she didn't care. At this point, Tina didn't care if her flesh burnt away from her bones, or if the Sun melted her eyes out of their sockets. She didn't even care if Gellert Grindlewald himself apparated behind her and toted her away to the abyss- that abyss was where she needed to go. Queenie was in there, waiting for her to bring her back._

 

_All she needed to do was find it._

 

* * *

 

“I was on a case,” she said.

 

“And were you authorised to go on this case, Mrs Scamander?”

 

Tina looked down. “I was never explicitly told that I _wasn't_ allowed to go...” she answered, knowing immediately her loophole had failed- she could feel Graves' glare drill into her skull, it was so obvious.

 

“You know,” he began, “that was the exact thing- the exact same thing you said to me about the Second Salemers. You remember what happened after that, Tina?”

 

She stayed silent, looking away. Tina remembered. She remembered being ordered to pack her things, to move down to Wand Permits, to give back her jacket and hand in her badge and lower her salary to the bare minimum. Tina remembered her sister's face when she walked through the door; the look of empathy and guilt and fear of not having enough money for rent and food. She remembered Queenie holding her as she apologised over and over for losing their income and failing to provide- she was the oldest, the protector, and she failed.

 

But Queenie wasn't there to tell her otherwise this time.

 

“I got demoted,” Tina said finally, realising her cheeks were damp and raising a hand to dry them off. Graves stayed quiet for a moment, before he sighed.

 

“You were lucky to keep your position at MACUSA at all,” he said.

 

“I know.”

 

“Then why-” Graves didn't finish his question, instead falling back, covering his eyes and sighing again. He looked an eternity older than the stoic man she met days out of Ilvermorny: his temples were scorched with silver and the stress lines on his forehead were creasing his skin like crumpled paper. He was more tired - well, she thought, he had always been tired, but the effect of morning caffeine had long disappeared from his eyes. He looked back up at her, exhausted.

 

“Listen, I get why you went,” Graves said, “ but I'm not gonna defend you for going A-WOL, _again_. You have to stop doing this.”

 

“I know, but-”

 

“But you have to help Queenie; you have to go after her, blah, blah... I know. She's your sister, I get it. But she's not your only family now- you have other people to think about.”

 

Tina looked away. “Yeah.” Graves was right, as always- she did have others to think of now: Newt, Jacob, Theseus; her family. She felt nauseous at the idea of someone discovering her corpse somewhere far away from home- it wasn't just her life on the line any more.

 

A few minutes of silence must have passed unknowingly by, as Graves stood abruptly, derailing her train of thought once more.

 

“I'm going to set up a portkey,” he said, eyeing her dangerously, “you are going to take it back to the Ministry and tell Theseus you were helping me with a case. And I swear to Morrigan herself: if I find you on this continent one more time without backup, I won't stand up for you again, Goldstein.”

 

He didn't hesitate using her old name- Tina may have been a Scamander now, but to him, she was always going to be Goldstein, no matter what was written on paper. That part of her- the part that shined through in the girl he met near ten years before was all Goldstein, and it was still there. Graves was simply acknowledging it.

 

“Thank you, Percy.” she said, and she meant it.

 

“No big deal. I'll go get the portkey set up.”

 

* * *

 

 

_There was a noise. Just a small one, soft enough to go unnoticed to the untrained ear; but she heard it. Among the bustling of the city, the_ _**whip** _ _of apparating sounded like a siren in her ears, ringing out from inside her head. It was from across the street, no more than forty paces in front of her, although cars still dotted the dark road and a tram shuffled along between the busy flow of traffic. Tina felt the whiplash in her neck as it twisted suddenly to the pavement opposite her. She studied closely, ignoring the burn below her ear; watching the shadows for any movement; any sign of life in the dark... but nothing._

 

_And then something._

 

_She was hidden well, for sure- her eyes saw nothing, but the mind? A small, untraceable tingle at the back of her head, like the wisp of a ghost flowing through her being- just for a moment her heart became whole again; the weight on her shoulders dissolved. Unknowingly, Tina released a breath as Queenie read her mind._

 

_And then she stopped. The flowing wisp jerked in her head, panicked and adrift before fizzling out as it always did in the end. The load on her came back as the_ _**whip** _ _sounded in Tina's head again and this time she saw her sister turn in on herself as she disappeared._

 

 


	2. Stickiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A confrontation with Theseus leaves Tina experiencing an unwanted feeling.

It was surprising how fast she managed to get home. Although she did stir up a fright upon her arrival- it was clear that an American portkey had not been expected that day by the majority.

However, that majority didn't include her brother-in-law: Theseus had seemed to have been waiting a while for her to arrive once she appeared. His hair was dishevelled, looking more like her husband's than his own, and his eyes were half-closed, although his rigid Auror stance remained firm. Even at her sudden emergence, his form only jolted slightly- a far cry from the near-heart attacks she must have given the others.

“It's about time you got back,” he said, the disarray fizzling down in the background. She smiled at him awkwardly, laughing despite her current discomfort, stickiness beginning to overwhelm her.

“Hey, 'Thes!” she said, her sticky feeling seeping through the forced nickname like treacle, “How are you?”

His jaw stiffened. Tina knew what was coming. “Five minutes. My office.”

She sighed. “I'll be there.”

Theseus turned away, walking to the elevators- lifts- she corrected herself, following him. Tina still hadn't fully accustomed herself to how different the Ministry was from her old headquarters, reminded of the stark contrasts as an owl feather landed in her hair. She fished it out, much preferring the charmed paper mice of MACUSA at that moment.

It was only a few minutes before she arrived at the Auror department- lacquered mahogany floors were the only thing that didn't smell of damp to her. Somehow after three years, it was still difficult to ignore, leaving her convinced that she smelled of the Thames each trek home from work. However, at that moment, Tina would have given her life savings to smell that mossy scent, instead of the thick, sickly-sweet smelling stickiness that still coated her from head to toe. She must have been emanating the stuff, as when she stepped through the archway, she saw her colleagues' heads pop up away from their desks, like mooncalves at the sight of food.

“What do you want?” she asked them, crossing her arms.

“Oh, nothing,” Fawley said as a small silence drifted over them, almost as suffocating as the stench hovering over her. To her alleviation, Prewett broke it with a loud breath of air, directed to the ginger lock that obscured his vision. He tried, and failed; the curl remaining stubbornly in front of his eyes. The others' gazes shot towards him.

“Theseus is in his office,” he said, awkwardness emitting from him.

Her British team members were quite unlike her old ones- far more prone to pranks and tricks than any American Auror was at MACUSA. She found herself- and Theseus, more-often-than-not- between the two groups, taking part in in-jokes and festivities one moment, raiding hideouts and following beast traffickers in another. They were good partners, she had decided, and the thought lessened the weight of the sticky scent on her skin.

With a quick thanks, Tina continued down the hallway. The clack of her shoes echoed around her; bouncing against the walls and back to her, and the stickiness returned ten-fold with every wave of sound. It took all the fibres in her being not to rush to the bathroom and heave out every last drop as she found herself closer and closer to the office of Head Auror. She reached it soon enough, to her dread. Knocking quietly on the door, it opened- Theseus faced away from her, studying the bookshelf that lined the back wall of his office. It was full, save a few empty spaces that collected dust, and an occasional trinket or picture. He was hunched over one of the frames, cast in his shadow.

“What the hell do you think you were doing?” he asked, stern and quiet. It wasn't often that Theseus acted this way- he was brash and he was loud, much like herself. She was seldom like this, however, quiet and cold never suited her. It didn't suit him, either, and Tina couldn't seem to find her words; none to answer his question, at least.

“I know where you were, you know.” he answered for her, “And I think I know why. But I can't-” he stopped.

“Theseus-” she started, finally discovering her voice.

He turned around, facing her now- the emotion on his face out-doing her own, “How many times have I said not to go after her?”

Tina stayed quiet as the stickiness overflowed, clogging her throat, pulling her head down to face the floor. She said nothing, but Theseus got his answer- the thick treacle of guilt seeped out of her, and now the room reeked of it, contorting his face into a look of near-betrayal.

She tried again, “I-”

“You could have been killed, Tina!” his voice was rising now, his composure catapulting out the door, “For all we know, it could have been a trap- they could have been luring you there, using your sister as bait-”

“She wasn't,” she said.

“Pardon?”

“Queenie wouldn't do that.” She was defying herself. Tina knew in her heart her sister wasn't the same person from their childhood days, yet still she continued, “I know my sister, Theseus-”

“And I know my brother, Tina. I think he'd prefer his wife to not be found dead in a dirty alley on another continent.”

“I know her, Theseus. Queenie wouldn't let someone use her like that.”

"Like how you knew she would join Grindelwald?”

She recoiled from him, a moment of anger flaring in her eyes, and he stopped. Theseus hunched over again, clutching the picture frame so tight his knuckles were whiter than his bones. “I'm sorry. But you're not the only person who lost someone that day,” he said, gaze averted from her eyes, “and you know it.”

“I do, and I'm sorry for going off the grid, but-”

“But what?” The photo was visible now; she saw the moving figure smile under his fingers, at his touch. She was happy, her dark skin creasing at the edge of her lips.

“I can get my person back,” she said, “Queenie is still out there, Theseus. She needs me.”

“No, Newt needs you; I need you, here, not gallivanting across Central America.”

She sighed, “You're right. I'm sorry.” It stayed quiet for a minute, and the stickiness began to melt- not all of it, though. Tina could still taste it at the back of her throat, and feel it in her joints; it was still there, but she could bear it.

Suddenly, arms were around her and warmth engulfed her being, “You're my family as well, Tina,” Theseus said, “ I care about you, I do- and not just because Newt does.”

“I know. After all, you are my brother...in-law.” He chuckled at her hesitation and pulled away. “I'll see you tomorrow, 'Thes.”

“I'd better, or else I'll hex you across the Atlantic,” he called as she walked away, the spirited mood she knew finally returning to him.

“You can try!”

As she exited past the other Aurors- in the midst of adding decorations to Prewett's hair as he snoozed- the sticky treacle seeped over once more. _You never should have gone,_ she thought, _you're only going to hurt people. It's a lost cause- she's gone; Queenie's gone, you can't help her._ The stickiness grew thicker with every word. _You can't save her, she doesn't want saving, stop trying to save her, she's gone. You failed._

“Stop it, Tina,” she told herself. The sweet smell flooded her nose and seeped in her mind and her head throbbed at the overflow. Soon sick replaced the sweet stickiness and she turned quickly left, eyes scanning for the lavatory. They were met with mahogany, and she spun to face the other way- more mahogany. Her body compass spun wildly as her nausea made it convulse and twist itself till all sense of direction was lost. Finally, she found it, dizzy and confused; head pounding against itself as she stumbled through the door.

Maria Abbot stood by a sink, studying her reflection with a hand by her face. She was rather short in stature; her face round with dark wiry hair, and never failing to dress in floral. Tina must have walked louder than she heard herself, as the poor witch jumped upon her entrance. “Tina,” Maria said, watching her as she lurched towards a stall, “you look peaky.” Tina gave no response- well, no verbal response, instead faltering into a stall and spewing out the contents of her stomach.

“Mercy Lewis,” she said, still stooping over the toilet bowl- the stickiness was still there.

“Tina?” Maria called, “Are you all right?”

“No, I don't think I am.” Tina straightened herself, still dizzy. “I might just go home.”

“Well, that sounds sensible, considering your lunch is sitting in a toilet,” She managed a small chuckle at that; smiling slightly before carrying herself out of the stall. “Do you want some help home?”

“No, I'll be OK, Maria.” Tina said, “but thanks for the offer.” Maria smiled at her as she walked out of the lavatory, only holding her head in her hands once out of Maria's line of sight.


	3. Nightmares

 Tina did make it home unharmed in the end, by some miracle. Her forehead was throbbing and her limbs dragged her instead of carried her, but she was in one piece. A tired, sluggish piece, but a piece nonetheless. Her hands fiddled with the keys. They rattled louder than a battleground, to her annoyance, as she attempted to open the door. Maria's offer had become more and more appealing with each step she took after leaving the Ministry; she was becoming increasingly exhausted as her head pulsed nausea through her body.

 

 

To her relief, the door opened, bringing a wave of warmth over her. It was a largish house - although all houses in London seemed to be that way, to some degree - with all the necessities; a spare room, basement, dining room, it was everything a younger version of herself could ever imagine to have. The fireplace was lit, a young flame burning brightly.  Tina smiled at the comforting warmth, sighing with tiredness as she shook off her coat; lifting it to place on the small spare notch by the door.

 

 

Shuffling bounced out through the open basement door. As she looked over, a curly head of copper emerged from the basement, smiling at her widely. Newt seemed surprised to see her, and as she glanced to the clock, she saw why. “Merlin, you're early,” he said, “I wasn't expecting you for another hour, or so.”

 

 

“Yeah, well, I've had a long day,” she shuffled over to him, sliding her arms around his waist and resting her head in the crook of his neck. “Figured I'd get back as soon as I could. 

 

 

“You look exhausted, love,” he said, wrapping his own arms around her.

 

 

“I am.”

 

 

Newt released her from the embrace, lifting his head to place a kiss on her forehead. He lingered there, stiffening slightly.

 

 

“Everything alright?” she asked.

 

 

“Tina, you're burning up.” he looked more closelyat her, laying the back of his hand against her forehead. 

 

 

“That would explain the puking, then,” she said, as light-hearted as she could manage.

 

 

“Puking- you threw up?” Tina nodded. “No wonder you look so unwell.”

 

 

She didn't reply this time, instead laying her head against him again. She sighed into him, closing her eyes. 

 

* * *

 

_A small breeze floated into the classroom. Winters at Ilvermorny were always frigid, but even through a cranberry scarf, as well as her regular uniform, Tina could still feel the frost-filled wind. It bit at her ears and turned her nose pink, like rose-tinted ice.  The girl looked forward at the chalkboard, where the word 'Glacius' sat scrawled in large, curly letters.  Beside it, a diagram explained hand movements- a circle inscribed in a square; with directions scribbled on the side.  Facing down toward her scroll, she finished her copy of the drawing, inking the final arrow of the square with careful precision. _

 

 

_It was quiet, very quiet, but Tina heard muttering from the side. “Wingardium Leviosa!” The Mutterer whispered. _

 

 

_ Abruptly, her quill jumped left, scraping black ink across the diagram. It pulled away from her fingers, even as her grip tightened around it; floating upwards out of her control. The class' heads twisted around at the commotion, all in time with each other like meerkats. Tina lifted herself from her chair, grabbing the feather with both hands, tilting her head up. She pulled harder this time, using her weight to bring it down..._ 

 

 

_And it snapped. Clean in half, the quill cracked open between her fingers as the charm broke with it. Her heels dropped to the floor; she didn't realise how much she had extended herself, and ink splattered across her face.  Cackling erupted around her, most loudly on her right, where the Mutterer sat, guffawing louder than anyone else.  He was tall, broad-shouldered; his robes rolled up to his elbows in that annoying way he always did, as well as the other boys. The Mutterer smirked at her, “You actually look halfway decent, now, Goldstein.”_

 

 

_Tina could feel her blood come to a boil as he heckled her. It raised through her chest and burned through her poise faster than she could control. Her fist clenched as she reached her arm over her desk; combing the inky mess for her wand. When she finally found it, she clasped in her palm, tight and strong, Tina faced him down, ready to hex him to the other side of the room._ 

 

 

_“Mr Johnson!” a voice called. The Mutterer, Johnson, curled his neck to face it, and Professor Hicks continued. “As glad as I am that you still recall the Levitation charm, our lesson is on this one.” she gestured to the board, where 'Glacius' was still scribbled down, “Or were you too busy harassing another student?"_

 

 

_“No, ma'am,” he said, “Of course not, ma'am.” the Professor smirked._  

 

 

_“Then show me,” she told him. “Freeze Miss Goldstein.” Tina stared at her, very alarmed at the declaration. Hicks glanced her way, her smirk transforming to a softer smile for a moment. Johnson froze himself for a second, mouth agape, before collecting his composure. He turned to face Tina, a devilish grin crossing his face, mouthing the words, 'You're dead'._

 

 

_"GLACIUS!” he cried, jabbing his wand through the air- wild and flailing. Sparks of white flew out the end, but they curved around. In an instant his whole, bare arm sat frozen; pale blue and unmoving. The ice crawled onto his rolled-up sleeve, then his shoulder, until it slowed and then stopped below his jaw.  Johnson screamed - really screamed: high-pitched enough to shake the window in its place – wailing his arm up and down with vigour; his legs moving in time with his other limb. The class burst out again with laughter, and this time she joined in. Giggling at first, it grew into hard, heavy hilarity that left her chest aching with warmth. Hicks smiled her way again._

 

 

_ “Alright, Mr Johnson,” she said, talking over his ongoing screeching, “I think you've caused enough distraction for today. Escort yourself to the Infirmary- go on.”_

 

 

_Students began filing out of classrooms soon after Johnson departed their own. Hicks dismissed them, spinning in place to face the blackboard. It was half clean when Tina heard her say, “Not you, Miss Goldstein.”_  

 

 

_Suddenly the light faded, and they were trapped in a sticky, black abyss. The classroom vanished and Tina was alone. Any warmth in her chest plummeted away, leaving a cold, empty hole in its absence. Hicks' voice echoed in her ears, muffled in the dark, “...I'm sorry...Nothing...Can do.....Separated.”._

 

 

_She saw herself, thrashing in someone's hold- no two people, there were four arms- yelling, crying, shrieking for something, some **one** , but they were gone. Faded into the abyss.  Hicks had disappeared by now, but her voice still reverberated around Tina, “Nothing...Can do...Nothing...Nothing you can do  . You failed, she's gone. Gone. GONE!”  _

 

* * *

 

Tina shot up, her breathing hard. Her head still throbbed; harder than before, it seemed. It was dark, her eyes showing her nothing but black. Something was talking to her, muffled in her ears- she couldn't make it out.  Whatever it was saying, her head didn't like it- only pounding against her skull with more and more ferocity each time she heard it.

 

  

A hand gripped her shoulder, and she flinched- she could feel the pain in her head move with her as she jumped.  The voice started to become clearer as she calmed down, her heart racing slower with each passing minute. “..n..T.n...Tina...”

 

 

“Merlin, Tina, look at me!” Her hand reached out  suddenly, locking the fabric of his shirt in an iron grip. A few moments passed, Tina's weighted breathing filling out the silence.

 

 

“Can you...” she started, “Can you turn the light on? Please?” Newt nodded, squeezing her shoulder. After a moment, she could see his face, illuminated in the warm glow of their bedside lamp. “Thank you,” she said, her grip on him loosening a little.

 

 

“Tina, what's going on with you? You're worrying me.” His hand slid up to cup her face; his thumb caressing her cheek. Tina didn't answer, not at first. Instead, she stayed quiet, studying his face and tan skin.  There were more freckles than before, she noticed, scattered across his forehead, and over the bridge of his nose. There were more scratches as well, now, peppering his face and under his chin-

  

 

“Please talk to me, love.” he said, “Something's bothering you... isn't it?” Tina looked away from him, her lips curling down. He stayed quiet, letting her gather her thoughts. She took a deep breath, releasing it  shakily  from her mouth.

 

 

“I went to Mexico today,” she whispered, “or yesterday- I don't know, my body clock's all screwed up.” Her head drooped  slightly. “I was trying to find Queenie... again.”

 

 

Newt sighed, “Tina...”

 

 

“I know, I shouldn't have gone. It was selfish, and I'm sorry, I'm _so_ sorry-” he pulled her closer, kissing her  lightly  against her head. Tina could feel him smile a little against her.

 

 

“It's alright, love.” Newt said, “You're OK, though, aren't you?” She shook her head. 

 

 

“Did you not find her, then?” he asked.

 

 

“No.” she answered, “I did.”


	4. Lockets and Waiting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've made this chapter a bit longer, and I'm posting it a day early as well- exams are coming up for me, and needing to study is becoming more and more important. So, I'm posting this a day early instead of tomorrow, which will be a personal day for me. No chapter either, on Friday; next one should be on Saturday.
> 
> I said at the beginning that this would most likely be updated sporadically, which I'm glad to say I haven't fulfilled so far. I intend to keep this up, however, school will be starting soon again, which means work and revision and all that, so after Monday (chapter after next), I'll be changing the release schedule from every other day to every three or four. Sadly this fanfic can't be my priority -as fun as it is- so my hands are tied. I'm sorry if anyone is disappointed, but please enjoy this new chapter.

 

Tina woke the next morning more tired than the day before.  Her headache had, instead of deciding to fade while she slept, morphed into a stuffing sensation that felt as though her mind  were made of thick, heavy concrete . She reached an arm across the other side of the bed, sliding her hand against the soft white sheets. They were cool, she found- Newt must have been gone for a while. Tina smiled  broadly at the thought of him.  Even after more than three years of being together- near two of those married, as well – he still managed to leave her grinning wider than a schoolgirl .

 

Her blushing thoughts  were cut off,  however , as she noticed a note on their bedside table.  Reaching over to grab it, her mind fought her movements; sending shock-waves through her head . Tina ignored them with her best efforts, as feeble as they were, taking the note into her hand.  She immediately recognised her husband's messy scrawl on top of the paper, where ' Tina' lay written, almost intelligible to her . The namesake opened it, rubbing her temple with her free hand: 

 

_ Tina, _

__

_ Popped into the Ministry to collect some files, back by 10 o'clock. _

__

_ Bunty's downstairs, so you aren't alone while I'm gone, _

 

_I love you, _

 

_ Newt. _

 

_ P.S: I've already owled Theseus telling him you won't be in today- which you won't because you're clever enough to realise you shouldn't work when you're ill . _

 

She scoffed at the final line, but a panic lifted away from her as well.  It was already nine, according to their clock – it would have been rather unlike her to arrive at a six o'clock job three hours late . Tina smiled again, warmth filling her chest;  just as more cement seemed to pour into her head.  She groaned, letting herself fall back against the pillow below her head; her hand resting above her heart . A familiar cool metal slipped into her palm, and Tina felt her chest sink a little.  She pushed herself up again, resting against the headboard, as her thumb pushed the small notch on the side of the locket . 

 

When it opened, it revealed five black-and-white pictures, all lined with intricate gold patterns, interconnecting them all . The one furthest on her left was the oldest, not even moving under her fingers.  It showed a young blonde woman with large curls and an even larger smile; her dark brown eyes swimming with kindness . Connected to her picture was a man's; the two connected by a set of rings. His photo didn't move either, only a few years younger than the first. The man was tall, with his hair combed back; his bright blue eyes not showing through monochrome. She knew they were there, though, looking at her with strength. Underneath the two sat their names- 'Annabelle(Anna) and Tevil Goldstein'.  _Ma and Pa_ _,_  she thought to herself, and her smile turned sad.  They had been gone for over twenty years now, but their faces never failed to break Tina's heart a little each time she saw them . 

 

Her eyes descended down the branch that connected them, which split into two, both much newer; moving and morphing into other photos. The left branch presented a little girl with her father's dark hair and her mother's dark eyes- _like Salamanders,_ Newt's voice reminded her. The girl was smiling brightly at the camera, but her short patience quickly changed her face to one of boredom, asking if she 'could sit down now?'. The picture then switched to another. It was the same girl, but a lot older, now reflecting Tina's own image towards her- _well,_ she thought, _a_ _ **slightly** younger one_. She recognised the photo; a shrunken cut-out of a newspaper, showing her give the camera a serious look- one of an Auror. Her façade crumbled after a moment, however, revealing a wide smile that stretched from ear to ear. On the left of her own picture, she saw Newt's, smiling with that awkward affection she loved so much; connected again with a set of rings. Their names sat under the portrait as well: 'Newton (Newt) and Porpentina (Tina) Scamander'. She cringed at her forename but smiled nonetheless, their names together bringing a sense of elation to her. 

 

The final picture was another girl.  She looked the opposite of her sister- blonde curls of her mother, and bright, round blue eyes inherited from their father .  Her bubbly persona emanated from the picture; the girl's twirling and giggling outdoing her elder sister's simple smile .  It extended until the photo faded away to reveal the same girl, smiling still, but far older than the child she had been before .  The girl, now a young woman, was still grinning at the photographer, although less active in her movements . Her beaming face changed to a smirk, and her eyes rolled- it was clear that she heard something amusing. Tina ran her thumb over the woman- her sister's- name: 'Queenie Goldstein'. Her heart clenched in her chest; stickiness trickling out.  _ Queenie... _

 

Tina closed her eyes, snapping the locket shut.  Nausea returned to greet her, flooding up from the nooks of her stomach, and she found herself racing to the bathroom .  She made it without a moment to spare- the toxins purging themself from her body almost faster than she could keep up with .  When it finally stopped, her breathing became deep and hoarse; her throat burning as air pushed back and forth against it . 

 

Her tongue became dry, like sandpaper against her teeth, and the idea of water grew more and more appealing with every second that passed without it . As it began to become unbearable, Tina pulled herself out of the bathroom. It was with uneasy steps, she found; her footing not coming to her as  easily as it did on the way  to  the toilet.  Leaning against the walls helped in keeping balance as well, although Tina was sure she looked intoxicated in some way from an outsider's perspective .  Once she arrived at the stairs, it was even slower going- single steps at a time, never failing to place both feet on the same one . Deep breaths filled her ears every two steps, holding her head in her free hand.

 

Her breathing must have echoed to the basement, as before long - and only on the sixth step – Bunty emerged beneath her . 

“Tina?” she asked her, “What are you doing?” 

 

“Getting water,” Tina answered, focusing on the next step more than Bunty's words. The other woman sighed, somewhat exasperated, climbing up to meet her. 

 

“Well, why didn't you  just call for me? I thought you knew I would be here,” Bunty continued, grabbing Tina's arm to lift it over her shoulder. 

 

“You wouldn't be able to hear me, that's why.” she replied, “Either way, you're not a maid, Bunty. Newt and I don't pay you to look after us; you help with the creatures.” 

 

“I know what I'm paid for, Tina,” she said, definitely exasperated now. “Newt asked me to make sure you didn't push yourself today- he knows how you get when you're sick.” 

 

“I'm not sick,” Tina answered almost  automatically .

 

“You know I heard you throw up, don't you?” she paused, and sighed, looking up at Bunty. Tina did consider her to be a close friend-  truly , she did- but right now, she felt like jinxing the woman.  Bunty's stubbornness out-matched her own at times, always insistent she could stay another while; she'll help out for a while longer .  Tina did decide against it in the end, realising Bunty didn't  really deserve to  be jinxed (and that her wand was upstairs) . 

 

She sighed again.  “As much as I appreciate both my husband's and your efforts to keep an eye on me, I am  perfectly capable of getting myself a drink of water .” She went to take another step, but her foot landed on nothing. Her weight dragged down her body, falling without control. She never met the stairs, as a strong grip wrapped around her torso before any damage could  be done . 

 

“Are you sure about that?” 

 

With a measurable amount of persuasion, Bunty managed to aid Tina to the kitchen table, where- at her friend's insistence- she stayed seated . After a moment, a glass of water sat in front of her, unmoving and more tempting than any other drink she had ever had.  It disappeared within seconds, to her own disappointment; the cool water so refreshing, so soothing Tina  was surprised steam didn't escape from her mouth and nostrils . She sighed in contentment, sinking into the chair. She could already feel her headache dissipate a small amount 

 

“Thanks, Bunty,” she said, looking the woman's way. 

 

“No problem at all,” Bunty replied, moving away from the kitchen, “I'll be in the basement if you need anything else- don't try to go upstairs without me; I don't want your neck broken .” 

 

Tina nodded at her, rolling her eyes. “Alright.” 

 

After a moment, she was alone again to ponder on her thoughts.  She felt  considerably better than when she woke up: heavy-headedness no longer burdened her and, although her nausea still lingered, it had diminished to a simple faint annoyance .  For a minute, Tina considered going in to work, her newfound comfort sparking confidence in her well-being .  She attempted to collect another glass of water, thirst beginning to plague her again; thinking the task would be the perfect indicator on whether she could work .  As she stood, no queasiness consumed her, nor did her head thump against her skull, nor did dizziness overwhelm her . And as she stepped to the sink, her sickness did not return; in fact, Tina felt  perfectly normal. 

 

She sat back down at the table with her water, proud of her accomplishment, but confused at how  easy it was to  accomplish .  Her illness seemed to disappear with no effort of her own- if she were honest with herself, Tina thought that there had never been an illness in the first place .  She had headaches and migraines in the past, almost always stress-related;  maybe this was the same . 

 

Sipping her water, Tina looked over at the clock on the wall.  Almost Ten, she thought,  Newt will be home soon .  She had found herself growing bored without company, and after becoming aware of how long until that company would  be filled stretched each minute into two, then three; five; an hour each .  After what seemed like a full lifetime, Tina finally heard the familiar chinkling of keys and the opening of the door . 

 

“Hello!” she heard him call as she lifted herself out of the kitchen. 

 

“Hey, Newt!” Tina saw him jump at the reply- he wasn't expecting someone to answer him, it seemed. 

 

“Oh! I wasn't expecting you to be downstairs.” he said, walking over to her, “You look better.” 

 

“ I feel better,” she said, linking her arms together around his neck. He did the same around her waist, smiling. 

 

“I'm glad. You looked awfully peaky when I left; I felt terrible leaving you,” 

 

She  _ aww _ ed, kissing him for a moment, before replying, “It's OK. You're back now, that's what matters. And like I said,  I feel better already. Hell,” she said, “ I feel better enough to go to work.” 

 

Newt gave her a look. 

“Not that I will!” Tina reassured, “After all, when's the next time I'll be able to hang out with my husband all day?” She kissed him again. “These opportunities don't exactly appear often for us, dear.” 

“They don't, do they?” He lifted his chin onto her head, sighing  quietly . A moment passed, both of them content. Newt shifted, pecking her forehead. “We should make the most of today then, shouldn't we?” 

 

She grinned, “I'd like that.” 


	5. Shadows and Vials

The day passed uneventful, but more enjoyable than many days she had had before. It had been too long since her last true venture in the basement, Tina found. She realised how much she missed that earthy smell and the air of energy that circulated everywhere down here. It was no wonder why Bunty kept insisting to stay another while- who would ever want to leave their Paradise?

 

It was an enormous weight off her shoulders to be doing nothing. No impending deadlines; no dangerous missions to Eastern Europe; no guilt leaving her feeling stickier than an overflowing treacle pudding. Her head was clear, rejuvenated by the liveliness that emanated around the basement. Tina closed her eyes, taking in the atmosphere that she loved so much, a smile forming on her lips.

 

A soft head nudged against her arm. She opened her eyes; greeted by familiar white fur and giant amber eyes. Tina laughed softly, opening her arms to let the Demiguise hug her.

 

“Hello, Dougal,” she said as the creature began to wrap his long arms around her neck, “how are you today?”

 

Dougal looked up at her with a sombre look, before snuggling against her chest and hugging her tighter. She reciprocated, leaning into the embrace. Tina let out an exaggerated _aww._ “Are you sad I didn't come to visit sooner?” She felt him nod against her. “I'm sorry,” she apologised. Her words seemed to fall on fallen ears, however, as not a moment after, Dougal released himself from the hug and trotted away. “Dougal!” She called half-jokingly, “I thought we were having a moment!”

 

She walked over to him, curious as to where he was going. As she followed, they approached the staircase, where another figure approached from upstairs. Dougal climbed up to where he stood, and then up the man himself, who chuckled at the creature's actions.

 

Tina looked up at him. “Jacob!”

 

“Hey, Teen. It's been a while since I've seen you down here,” Jacob's eyebrows furrowed. “Shouldn't you be at work?”

 

“I took the day off,” she said, shrugging her shoulders, but Jacob looked even more confused. He gave her a look.

  
“You, Tina Goldstein, actively decided to _not_ work? Are you feeling okay?”

 

She chuckled at him, heading back down the stairs. “I'm fine, don't worry. I was a little unwell yesterday, but I'm feeling better now. I just thought I'd take advantage and have a sick day. Y'know- relax, have some fun.”

 

“Now I _really_ don't believe you.”

 

“I made her take the day off!” They heard Newt call; Jacob sounding that he understood, muttering an _'Ohh,_ that makes more sense,'.

 

Tina gasped, smiling as well. “You did _not_! It was my idea!”

 

“Yes,” he began, a grin coating his face just like the others, “an idea you abandoned not five minutes after.”

 

“I still chose to stay here, Mr Scamander.”

 

“Only because I convinced you to, _Mrs_ Scamander,” said Newt, reflecting her formality back at her. Tina crossed her arms, eyeing him playfully. He etched closer, lifting his hands onto her arms. “You said that you felt good enough to go in and at least do paperwork, and I said that I would much prefer you stay at home, just in case you got sick again, to which you said-”

 

“'That sounds reasonable',” she finished, “and it is. I guess it wouldn't be great if I threw up on a Ministry floor, would it?”

 

Newt shook his head. “I doubt the elves would appreciate it, no,”

 

She laughed at that, her husband and Jacob joining in not long after.

 

* * *

 

The following day, Tina returned to work; spirits higher than they had been in a long time. The sky seemed to mirror her mood- a beautiful blue blanket sat above London, not even tarnished by a single cloud. When she noted this out loud, Newt chuckled, commenting on how 'un-English' it was for there not to be a constant grey haze lingering in the air. She laughed at it as they left the house, deciding to take full advantage of the blue skies above them.

 

The walk to the Ministry was short- at least, shorter than her old trek to work- but enjoyable. There were far more people that walked in London, she found; cars clogging roads only on a special occasion. Even the streets themselves differed from New York ones- there were no skyscrapers, no vast metal structures that dominated the horizon. Instead, there was limestone and marble; mismatched brick colours put together in one wall four times over to make a building.

 

No one paid attention to them, walking together down busy sidewalks, hand-in-hand. They were hardly ever recognised on no-maj streets; appearing to be a regular couple on regular morning walks. So when Tina found herself looking back again and again to the shadows, a knot tied in her stomach.

 

“Tina?”

 

She looked back forward, squeezing Newt's hand a little tighter, “Don't look back,” she whispered, “but I think we're being followed.”

 

“What makes you think that?” He asked her, not unconvinced but curious.

 

“I don't know, I just... something feels _off._ ”

 

They became more careful, circling the Ministry entrance a handful of times and dodging into smaller alleys to throw off their follower. When Tina looked back another time, their shadow seemed to have disappeared. Her stomach knot didn't fade, but she was satisfied. She and Newt remained cautious as they arrived at the Ministry, flooing down to their underground headquarters.

 

The day proceeded as normal- they split away from each other at the second stop, Tina departing to her department as her husband descended another two floors. She was greeted with the familiar mahogany of Magical Law Enforcement as she passed by her colleagues to her office. She much preferred having her own area to work in- but having an office meant more room for more files to pile up in, and she was left with the same amount of room as anyone below her.

 

When she stepped into the room, however, she found her paperwork missing. Her desk was stripped bare, save a photograph and a few trinkets, as well as her nameplate. The sides of the office had nothing leaning against them, either. But the room wasn't empty.

 

No, in front of her- in _her_ chair- Theseus sat hunched over. His hands sat under his chin as he stared at the photo on his right. She glared at him as he raised his head to look at her.

 

“Theseus!” she exclaimed, “Where are my files?”

 

He stared at her, with an air of discomfort that made her nervous.“Take a seat, Tina.”

 

“This is _my_ office-!”

 

“Sit down, Goldstein,” another voice said, more disciplined than her brother-in-law's. Tina turned to face him, her irritation replaced with confusion. Percival Graves sat in front of her, laying back in a spare chair Tina was certain wasn't there before. She complied, sitting in the empty chair opposite her desk.

 

“Okay, what's going on?” She asked Theseus. He didn't respond, and Tina directed her attention to Graves, “And what are you doing here, Percy?”

 

Graves stayed quiet as well. “What are you doing here?” she pressed.

 

“I asked him here,” Theseus said, finally opening his mouth. “I need to ask you something a little awkward, and Percy's known you the longest, so I figured he would be able to... help.”

 

“Help with what?” They exchanged a look. Theseus' discomfort spread to her as he gestured to Graves, who gestured back. “Guys, you're really starting to freak me out.”

 

Graves gestured again, and Theseus sighed. “I, uh-” he stammered, “I saw Maria Abbott after you left the day before yesterday. She was worried about you, you see, and she, uh... she wanted to know if you were...well, you know-”

 

“No, I don't.” she said, “What did she want to know?”

 

“Well, she wanted to know if you were, uh... if you were... _expecting._ ”

 

“Expecting what?”

 

Graves rolled his eyes, muttering a curse under his breath. “A baby, Goldstein. She wanted to know if you were _pregnant._ ”

 

Tina's eyes widened. Her throat seemed to clog up as she tried to respond, but only a squeak came out of her mouth.

 

“Obviously I thought she was wrong at first,” Theseus continued, almost too fast for her to comprehend. “but when Newt owled me the next day that maybe... maybe you _were_.”

 

She squeaked again. Graves fiddled with a pocket, pulling something out and placing it in front of her. “We got you this.”

 

It was a small glass vial sealed with a cork; no taller than the palm of her hand. Inside it was a small portion of bright blue liquid that swirled in place.

 

“W-what is that?” she managed to say, her whole body shaking in her chair.

 

“An Expectancy Test.” Graves said, reaching over to remove the cork seal.“Brought it over from across the pond. It'll tell us if you're expecting or not.”

 

Tina stayed quiet, staring at the vial. A small wisp of blue smoke raised from the potion as she heard the others shuffle in their chairs.

 

“Do you want me to get Newt?” Theseus asked. Her throat nearly caught her words again, but she kept them in her mouth for a moment, shaking her head.

 

“It won't be worth it.” she said. “The test will say no.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“About Newt?”

 

“About the test.”

 

Tina hesitated. “No.”

 

Graves leaned forward, sighing again. “Alright then,” he said, inching the potion closer to her. With a reluctant hand, she grabbed it. Her grip was so tight she half-hoped it would shatter in her palm. When it didn't, she asked, “What do I do?”

 

“Just spit in it, and it'll change colour.” Graves answered.

 

Abiding by his instructions, Tina raised the glass to her lips, and, turning away (for posterity's sake), she spat into the liquid. She looked to Graves and Theseus, her heart pounding against her ribcage hard enough that she could hear the impact of bone against organ.

 

“What colour will it be if I am... expecting?” she asked.

 

 

 

“That one.”

 

 


	6. The Shadow and the Wisp

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, sorry for the late publication of this chapter, but I had to install a three-day gap in order to meet some school deadlines I had. Thank you for your patience- the next chapter should hopefully be up sometime on Friday.

She paced the length of the room a good five times before she said anything more than 'Mercy Lewis' or 'Sweet Morrigan'. Theseus and Graves sat by her, both silent; although their moods couldn't be more different. Graves was known for being impossible to read; he had the same expression for near every situation that could occur in his life- clearly, this wasn't one of them. Pure astonishment coated his face: his mouth had shrunk to a tiny, pin prick-size hole; his skin was whiter than his eyes, which were bulging ever so slightly as well. Theseus couldn't look more like Graves' opposite if he tried. He instead cloaked his face in light-emitting joy; his lips stretching from one side of his face to the other. His skin seemed to glow, and Tina could swear he was bouncing a little in her chair.

 

“ _Mercy Lewis_ ,” she said, reaching the end of the room a fourth time. Her mind was racing; so was her heart, and her hands were shaking so hard they looked as though they were vibrating. She rested them on her hips, swivelling to Theseus and Graves. “Are you... are you sure this colour means positive?” she asked, grabbing the potion in her fingers, the liquid now a shining emerald.

 

“I mean...” Graves started, “it's what the instructions said- green is positive, red is negative.” He reached into his blazer pocket, grabbing a small notch of paper and handing it to Tina. She opened it, seeing a small diagram displaying three colours with four words. At the top was blue, the same blue the potion was when she first saw it and the words 'base colour'. Below was a red, more like scarlet, with the word 'negative' scribbled on the right of it. Below that sat a green- her green; emerald, and the word 'positive'. Tina started pacing again.

 

“Do you want me to get Newt?” Theseus asked her, more excitedly than he should have.

 

“No, I-” she felt her breath catch in her throat. “I kinda need to accept it myself, first.”

 

“Alright,”

 

So he waited, and Tina paced some more, her hands finding their way to lay over her temples. Before long, Graves recaptured his well-known composure, leaning back into his chair. He watched her walk back and forth, and a question sitting on his tongue slipped out.

 

“How do you feel about it?”

 

She froze, not turning to face him. “I... don't know. I mean, Newt and I... we've talked about it, sure, but we never... we haven't been _trying_ , or anything.”

 

Another question fell from his mouth. “Do you want it?”

 

She swivelled this time, no words forming as thought engulfed her. _Did she?_ Tina looked down, trying to picture a child in her mind. She was greeted with the face of a little boy, with beautiful grey-blue eyes and dark hair that seemed too difficult to tame. He smiled at her with a look she recognised. It was an old look at that, with the admiration you could only possess for a parent- the same look she held whenever her father recounted great tales of his work. She stared at her little boy; a hand finding its way over her stomach. Tina looked up at Graves, nodding; smiling.

 

He smiled back at her, as did Theseus, who stood up to walk over to her. His arms wrapped around her, more careful than normal; slower and more gently. She hugged him back, letting out a shaky sigh as she closed her eyes. She was going to be a mother.

 

When Theseus released himself from the embrace he looked at her. Tina opened her eyes, looking at him with the same joy he held for her and his brother. But he also saw a small glimmer of something else that sat in the core of her eyes - he saw her fear.

 

“Don't tell Newt, okay?” she asked him. “It's gotta be me who delivers the news.”

 

He nodded, still excited. Tina glared at him.

 

“I'm serious, Theseus. Don't say a word about this, you hear?” she turned to Graves. “That goes for you too, Percy.”

 

Graves smirked at her. “Of course, _mom_.”

 

“Don't call me that.”

 

“But it's true!” he laughed, his hands flailing dramatically.

 

“Not yet it isn't!” she said, smiling.

 

Tina continued about her day with relative normality. Graves returned to America not long after they discovered the news, both she and Theseus accompanying him to the portkey that would deliver him home. Before he left he hugged her, whispering a 'congratulations' in her ear, then parting away from her. Louder he called, “I'd better be godfather!”, making the witch roll her eyes as the teleporter took him away.

 

Once they arrived back in her office, she remembered another question she had had for her brother-in-law, reminded by the bareness of her room and desk.

 

“By the way,” she asked him, “where are my files?”

 

He gave her a look of recollection. “Oh, right, of course.”

 

Sliding his wand into his hand, Theseus pointed to the corner of the office, muttering “Engorgio”. After a moment, her documents appeared, stacked in a messy pile that looked too precarious not to fall over. Tina sighed, regretting ever asking where they had been as she walked over to them. She shuffled over and lifted the top file as carefully as she could manage, retreating to her desk and flopping into her chair. She heard a cough, and looking up, found Theseus standing by the doorway. He was tapping his fingers against his leg, eyeing her lamp on his right.

 

“Yes, Theseus?” He glanced over to her, mumbling something she couldn't understand- although she swore she heard the word 'field'. “What?”

 

“I have to take you off fieldwork,” he said, far louder than necessary; guilt dripping from his voice.

 

“What! Why?”

 

“Because,” he began, “you're pregnant. And I'm obligated to restrict any pregnant Aurors from doing fieldwork. I'm not going to risk a child's life- especially if it's my niece or nephew's.”

 

“I feel like I'm being demoted.” Tina thought back to her days at MACUSA and those awful months away from the Auror department, slaving over Wand Permits. She didn't want to go through that again.

 

“You're not. This is temporary; just until the baby is born- well,” he corrected himself, “until after you come back from maternity leave.”

  
“That's over a year from now- Theseus!”

 

“There's nothing I can do, I'm sorry. Do you really want to risk losing your kid before it's even born?” Her hand found her stomach again. Theseus apologised again before leaving her, silence clogging her ears.

 

* * *

 

 

The dry, cool night air bit at her ears as they walked home. The sky's azure hue had faded to almost-black; a small hint of blue still lingering. A handful of people joined them on the streets, minding their own problems- but she didn't care. Her hand seemed to possess a mind of its own; constantly reaching to hold her abdomen, but she restrained herself, making her other hand grip Newt's harder. Her courage to tell him was still too small to utter anything, so she kept quiet, letting it build in her chest.

 

Her husband was chatting away to her, but Tina found it difficult to listen. As much as she adored his creatures, as well as his passion for them, her mind raced too fast for her to pay attention. She felt awful about it; simply nodding along or humming in agreement every so often, but each time Newt said something all she could think was _What is he going to say? Is he gonna be happy? Nervous? Mad?_ No, not mad- he wouldn't get angry with her, especially over something like this. _What if he doesn't want it?_

 

“Tina?”

 

She turned to face him, smiling with a fake brightness that made her insides rot. “Yeah?”

 

“I asked what you thought about the Longbottoms' problem with their gnomes,” he said. Newt looked down, “I'm boring you, aren't I?”

 

Her face shifted; lifting her hands to his face. “No, of course not! I love listening about your work- I'm just... distracted. I'm sorry.”

 

One of her hands fell to her side, and he grabbed it; taking her other hand from his face and putting them together. “It's alright, love. What's bothering you?”

 

She felt her breathing hitch in her throat- her courage seemed to melt away at the moment she looked at him, concern for her coating his eyes. “I, uh-” she cut herself short, frantically piecing together a way to tell him their news. Closing her eyes, Tina took a deep breath, letting it release before she began again.

 

“I love you- so much, you know that right?” he nodded at her, smiling. She continued. “I got taken off fieldwork today.”  
  
  
“Why?”

 

“Well, I-” she cut herself off again, this time not on purpose. A small familiar tingle floated into the back of her mind, prodding against her thoughts. “I, um... it's because of something else I found out today, I- we...”

 

A gasp echoed from the other side of the road; both of them turning their heads to the source: a shadow stood by a wall, unmoving. Newt reached for his wand, but Tina didn't- the wisp in her mind fleeing. _Don't go!_ She thought, her feet carrying her across the road, slowly; inch by inch. The wisp stayed, and she smiled. _Queenie_...

 

And the wisp fled. Without thinking, her walk shifted to a sprint, and before she knew it her wrist was clutching the shadow's arm, and its blonde curls bounced as its head turned to face her. Tina felt her body fold in on itself, their surroundings blurred. She barely heard Newt's desperate call to her as she disapparated, Queenie's arm in her hand.

 

 


	7. Interrogation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to apologise for the lateness of this chapter, and I'm afraid these gaps are only going to get longer. Exam season is finally upon me and that has to be my number one priority.
> 
> I do hope to continue this after exams are over, but that is a while away- around the end of June, so if there are no new chapters until around then, please understand. Thank you to everyone who has been reading this- your comments mean the world to me, and it makes me so happy that I can bring you enjoyment through this story.
> 
> Thank you, and I'll see you in June.

Their forms reassembled, Tina's hand still clutching her sister's arm. They were in a dark corridor, with only a small, pale light glowing feet away from them. She released a breath, trembling, as she took in her surroundings, despite there being very little for her to take in. The hairs on her neck stood up as a draft flowed past and her grip on Queenie strengthened. At the increase in pressure, her sister recoiled away, facing her.

 

“What the _hell_ were you thinking?” she whispered loudly; anger seeping through every word. Her lips had a thin shade of red over them, but that was the only bright colour that she seemed to adorn- her dress was dark moss, a distant cry from the pinks and blues Tina was so used to; her overcoat a dusty beige. Even her face looked drained of colour, with her skin as pale as her own, and her once-golden curls had faded to a tattered blonde. Her eyes were the only thing she recognised- their father's opalescent orbs staring at her with frustration that felt heart-achingly familiar.

 

Tina jolted as her sister pinched her. “Answer my question, Tina- why did you follow me?” She didn't answer and Queenie pinched her again.

 

“Queenie, stop that!”

 

“Not till you answer me!”

 

She didn't have time to formulate a response before the echoes of footsteps rushed toward them. Out of instinct, her arm flew across Queenie, but she pushed it away, stepping forward. She gestured to her, finger over her lips.

 

“Hey, Queenie?” A voice called, the light drawing closer. “That you?”

 

“Yeah, it's me,” she said, eyes still on Tina.

 

“I was wonderin' when you'd get back- Boss needs you to read someone.” The figure drew nearer, and Tina's brow furrowed- she knew that voice.

 

Queenie turned to face it. “Tell him I'll do it first thing tomorrow, alright? I'm too exhausted right now.”

 

The voice's body came into view- he was a short man, his slick back hair not giving him any extra height. Now she knew why she recognised the voice, as Abernathy took another step closer. She took her own back, trying to hide in the shadows.

 

“Sure. How was your trip?”

 

“Oh, great! Berlin is super pretty this time o'-” she stopped mid-sentence, staring at him. “No, I'm not.”

 

Abernathy's face shrunk as he scowled. “How many times have I told you to _not_ read my mind?”

  
“Then don't accuse me o' hiding people, cuz I'm not.”

 

“Alright- who's _that_ then?” He asked, pointing to the shadows- at her. “A new recruit? Because last time I checked, Queenie Goldstein wasn't exactly getting along with her sister-!”

 

Panic covered her, but Queenie answered back, still calm. “She won't hurt us.”

 

“Yeah, not if she's _dead-_ ”

 

“ _Wait_!” she cried, the panic consuming her as well. She turned to face Tina, her breath heavy. “Teen, gimme your wand.”

 

“What?”

 

“Give me. Your wand.” she repeated, pleading her sister with her eyes. Reluctantly Tina obeyed, fishing her wand out of her pocket and placing it in Queenie's hand. She watched her sister spin away from her, her other hand gripping the weapon as well now. She didn't see it happen, but the deafening snap was enough to know that her wand was gone; a handful of small splinters falling to the floor. Queenie dropped the broken pieces, opening her hands. “There.” she said to Abernathy. “No wand, no magic- no magic, no danger.”

 

“She's an Auror, Queenie, she can do wand-less magic-”

 

“Please,” her sister scoffed, and Tina wasn't sure if it was real or fake. “Teen's always been useless at that.”

 

Abernathy sighed, not convinced in the slightest. “Fine, I'll take her to a holding cell-”

 

“She's staying with me.”  
  
“What? Are you crazy? She needs to be interrogated!”

 

“Then _I'll_ do that. She's my sister- Teen won't hurt me.” Tina looked at her, and she looked back, for a moment, before returning her gaze to the man in front of them. “And Boss is _not_ finding out about this, unless you want Vinda to find out about that dream you had.”

 

The colour drained from his face, and he shifted uncomfortably; pulling at his collar. “ _Fine_.” he said, moving out of the way to let them pass.  
  


As they continued down the hall, the gravity of her situation finally hit her. She was with Queenie, a wanted person, in a place she had no clue to the whereabouts of, with no wand. And a child- her child- growing inside her.

 

“Congrats, by the way,” her sister said with a voice softer than before.”I'm real happy for you- even if you are the most stupid person on the planet for followin' me.”

 

“Did you expect me not to?” She answered, smiling lightly. “You're my baby sister, Queen- it's my job to be stupid for you.”

 

Queenie looked down, her own smile covering her face. “Right.”

 

After a few minutes, the two arrived at a door. It sat filling an old archway, with fresh lacquer over the wood and pristine gold door-knobs. Queenie jiggled it for a moment, fighting stiffness as it creaked open. It revealed a large room with an equally large window. In front of it was a large red sofa, with a small coffee table where an empty cup sat waiting to be cleaned. As she turned to the right, a short metal staircase paved the way to a bedroom- more so like a balcony than anything. She spun further right, and an adjoining room sat in the corner, but that was all over there, save a bookshelf and a smaller window. There was a built-in kitchen opposite, and as she turned right again, she was greeted with the window once more.

 

“Home sweet home,” Queenie sighed, shrugging off her coat and laying it on the peg by the door, now closed. “You want anything, Teen?”

 

“No, I'm okay. Pretty swanky place you got here,” she answered.

  
“Yeah, it's swell. So homey, and it's got everything you need.”

 

“I can see that.”

 

Queenie glided over to the sofa, picking up the abandoned cup and taking it it the kitchen. Placing that one in the sink, she collected another from a cupboard and hesitated as she reached for another. “I'm making cocoa; you sure you don't want some?”

 

Her sister said nothing as she grabbed the second cup. “I thought so,”

 

She returned not long after, two drinks in her hands and a small smile on her face. Tina thanked her, sipping the chocolate with savoury. When she looked up, she saw Queenie looking at her; a mix of emotions she couldn't place her finger on. Her mood had changed dramatically since they arrived- first anger, then some blend of relief and apprehension, and now this.

 

“Don't worry about me, Teen. I'm alright.” Queenie said, answering her silent concern. “Right now, I'm more interested in what's been goin' on with you.”

 

“You don't want me gone, still?”

 

“Oh, don't get me wrong, I'm still annoyed at you for that, but,” she paused, “I thought I'd make the most o' you while I can.”  
  
“Alright then, what do you wanna know?”

 

Her sister hummed, pondering on what to ask- there was so much she had missed, after all. It took moment, but a smirk grew on her face. “How long you and Newt been married for?”

 

She scoffed at the question, knowing it would be that, “About two years now.” Tina answered, smiling down at her cocoa. “How'd you know?”

 

Queenie gestured to her left hand, where two rings sat. “Well, _those_ , plus the fact you were holdin' his hand when I saw you.”

 

Tina rolled her eyes. “Okay, next question.”

 

“How far along are you?”

 

“Huh?”  
  


“With the baby, Teen.” she elaborated.

 

“Oh! I, uh, don't know, actually. I only found out this morning.” Tina said. They continued like this for a while, Queenie asking about her job, and the creatures, and anything else that came to her mind. The Sun was rising by the time silences began to creep between the questions.

 

“Anything else you wanna ask me?” Tina asked. Queenie said nothing for a minute, looking away. Eventually, she looked up at her; eyes glassy.

 

“How's Jacob?”

 

Tina bit her lip. “Well, he has a bakery in London, now, and it's doing really good- English people seem to like his pastries. He lives down the street from us, and we visit him pretty often. He's doing well, all things considered. But he misses you a lot... we all do.”

 

“I miss him, too. And you and Newt.”

 

They stayed silent for a while, sipping their hot drinks in time with each other. After another moment, Tina asked again, “Anything else?”

 

“No, that's it.” The silence crept in again, and her own question came to her mind.

 

“Queenie-”

 

“We're not talking about that, Teen- I don't wanna argue,” she said, cutting her off.

 

“Neither do I, but I just wanna tell you I-”

 

“You don't need to apologise for anythin', you hear? I made my own choice to do this- I'm not a little girl any-more, I can look out for myself. You need to focus on _your_ family, Tina. Your new one. They need you more than I do.”

 

“Alright. Sorry.”

 

Queenie rolled her eyes, pulling her closer, and she hugged back- for the first time in years, she held her sister in her arms, and couldn't help but let tears flow.

 


	8. Fear and Children

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M BACK!
> 
> So sorry it took so long to arrive- but exams are finally over and I can finally begin to commit to this story again!
> 
>  
> 
> Please leave a comment if you can, it lets me know people are enjoying this, and also allows me to gather some constructive criticism to improve.

 

 

His footsteps reverberated against the walls as he scrambled through Ministry corridors, stumbling into a lift. There was no one else inside, save a few owls that gazed in his direction. Envelopes dangled from their beaks, eyes searching him curious and innocent. But even their serene naivety couldn't calm Newt's panic to a level he could manage. His organs twisted in place as his mind screamed at him to do something, _anything-anything at_  all.  _Anything would be better than nothing,_   he thought as he assaulted the 'Level 2' button. The movement of the lift did not discourage his frantic button-pressing, however. Even as its momentum rose and fell, Newt continued to shift the weight of his thumb into the plastic, somehow hoping he would arrive faster if he did.

 

 

The motion stopped eventually, jolting his form as the golden grilles slid away. Newt rushed out of the metal cage; his feet skidding across the polished mahogany floors. He barely registered the remaining Aurors' befuddled- and panicked- looks at him as he scuttled through the open office space to his brother's own. Newt shifted his whole heft against the door without realising and it careened into the wall, emanating a loud slam through the department. As he turned to face his brother, the door's relapse missed him by a hair and locked itself back in place with a resounding _click._

 

 

“Theseus!”

 

 

“Bloody hell, Newt!” He said, gripping the arms of his chair so tight his knuckles reflected light. “What's wrong with you!”

 

 

“Tina's missing.”

 

 

Theseus' face morphed from frustration to bewilderment. “What do you mean she's 'missing'? I saw her an hour ago with you.”

 

 

“That doesn't matter! She's gone!” He looked up at Theseus, lost. “What are we going to do?”

 

 

“You have to tell me what happened first before I can help you, you know,” said Theseus. His hands began to travel away from the chair and to his forehead- he always did that when he was stressed.

 

 

Newt reached for a seat in the back corner and dragged it over, sitting down. He sat silent for a minute, planning out his story. Just before Theseus was about to press him, he began. “Well, we were walking home from work. I was talking about the Longbottoms- they have a gnome problem, you see-”

 

 

“I don't care about gnomes, Newt- just tell me what happened.”

 

 

“Right, of course,” he continued, ”Well, Tina seemed a bit off, so I asked her what was wrong. She was about to say something, but then we noticed this... person in the alley across the street from us. They made a noise and all of a sudden Tina just ran over to them and disapparated when she grabbed their arm.

 

 

“I don't know who it was if you're wondering, 'Thes. But I think I have an idea-”

 

 

“Queenie...” Newt nodded his head. Theseus fell back into his chair, a puff of air escaping him as he landed. “Bloody hell,” he said again. “Bloody hell! Why couldn't you have married someone less... less reckless!”

 

 

“Theseus-”

 

 

“You understand what this means, don't you?”

 

 

Newt sighed knowingly. “Grindelwald.”

 

 

Theseus threw his arms up in frustration, running his hands through his hair. Muttering something under his breath, he began to comb through his dusty bookshelf. Eventually, Newt watched him remove a thin, leather-backed tome with more grime than some of the others his brother possessed. He proceeded to drop it on his desk and, grabbing a quill from his left began scribbling a message. Looking over Newt saw there were only a few short paragraphs dotting each page, with distinct styles of writing marking new writers. Once Theseus was finished he saw the new message:

 

 

**_'She's run off again.'_ **

 

* * *

 

 

_ “ Alright, Mr Johnson,” Hicks said over the boy's ongoing screeching, “  I think you've caused enough distraction for today. Escort yourself to the Infirmary- go on.” _

 

 

_Students began filing out of classrooms soon after Johnson departed their own. Hicks dismissed them, spinning in place to face the blackboard. It was half clean when Tina heard her say, “Not you, Miss Goldstein.”_

 

 

_Tina's throat closed up on itself as her heart hammered against the ribs that surrounded it. An iceberg of fear had been sitting in her mind for weeks- her regular anxieties about deadlines and exams sat above the surface while her secret worries festered and grew in the absence of their exposure: now it sat capsized, her innermost insecurities floating for all to see. No one knew of them, save Queenie...did Hicks work out what happened? Or did Queenie tell her- no, she wouldn't do that; she knew how important keeping this secret was... _

 

 

_Hicks stared at her, smiling lightly, "Miss Goldstein...”_

 

 

_She lifted her head up- of course, off in her own thoughts again. “Hm?”_

 

_The woman's hand extended, holding the board eraser. “Help me clean the board?”_

 

 

_“ Oh! Sure...” Tina took the block into her own hand and strolled over to the panel; the berg of fears righting itself as her arms swayed across the board's half-clean length. Behind her Hicks leaned against a front row desk, studying the girl's mannerisms and tilted her head._

 

 

_“ How are you doing today, Tina?” she asked._

 

 

_“ I'm good. How're you doing, Professor Lally?” The girl twisted her head around to face her; smiling. _

 

 

_“ Good, good...What about your sister? Is she settling in well?”_

 

 

_“ Yeah- 'Queen's already got some friends in Wampus house. She really likes it here.” _

 

 

_“ I'm glad...” Hicks sighed. “Listen, Tina. You and I both know I didn't keep you behind to clean blackboards- although you are very good at it.”_

 

 

_Her hand stopped moving- she could feel the iceberg shifting again as her voice shook. “Wh-what do you need to talk to me about?”_

 

 

_“ Take a seat and we'll start.”_

 

 

_As Tina began to turn around she felt a chill flow into the room. Colour slowly  drained away and with it the light of the room, leaving nothing but a void with only her and Hicks who stared with an empty gaze. She brought her eyes up to meet Hicks', only to find them gone- replaced by the same void that surrounded them. Her voice emerged from the darkness though her mouth remained closed... _

 

 

_“ ...I'm sorry, Tina. There's nothing I can do... you'll have to be separated  .” _

 

 

_ Screams of another child echoed in the void, bouncing off infinite invisible walls- shrill, panicked; pained. She started to writhe against something... Hands? It didn't matter: she needed to save her; protect her. Even as the void closed in, suffocating her, she kept struggling- she had to. _

 

 

_She couldn't lose Queenie, too._

 

 

_“ QUEENIE!”_

 

* * *

 

Her back bolted upright as her lungs were emptied of air.   Tina reached her hand over to the left, searching frantically for Newt before she realised where she was, her hand grasping at nothing. Her breath returned. It was coarse against her throat, but it was there. It was comforting. Tina closed her eyes, falling back onto the couch where she sat. A wave of nausea flowed over her once more and she groaned but smiled.  _At least I know why now,_  Tina thought as she rested her hand over her abdomen.

 

 

With her eyes closed, she pictured the little boy from her mind again. He was more active this time- not simply standing in front of her- and a little older as well. Before he was no more than three, looking wide-eyed at her.   Now he seemed to be at least twice that and paid little attention to her; only glancing up before returning his focus to a book that sat in his lap. Tina took a seat next to him.   Peeking over her little boy's shoulder, she noticed a detailed sketch of a mooncalf, with short notes littered across the page. Some she recognised, but not all- a handful was in pencil, noting less complex facts _like likes brown pellets more than yellow ones_.   Tina laughed quietly at the idea of the boy tossing food to their mooncalf herd, only for them to back away disgusted at the sight of yellow pellets rather than brown. She brought a hand up to his dark curls, caressing her son's head. He lifted his face from the book to her, grinning. As his mouth opened, another voice entered her mind.

 

 

“Mama?”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took as long as it did to come out but I've been experiencing some computer issues recently, which meant I had to rewrite the whole chapter.
> 
> Please enjoy, and leave a comment if you can!

“Mama?” She repeated. _Who...?_

 

The girl was small, not even half the height of the doorknob- her nightdress bundled on the floor. Her hair almost did as well, falling below her waist. It was the perfect brown, although rather dishevelled at that moment, and her eyes were the perfect blue. They shone a beautiful opalescent at Tina as she stared at her stiller than a petrified man. Tina's brows furrowed and the girl clutched at the door she stood behind.

 

“Not Mama...” she whispered, retreating even further to the point where Tina could barely see her face- but it was enough to see the fear she held. Tina shook her head in response.

 

“No, I'm not,” she said, looking at the girl. “my name is Tina. What's yours?”

 

She didn't respond, hiding her face even more. Tina bit her lip. After a moment she moved from the sofa to the floor, sitting cross-legged; about two feet closer to the door. She could only see the girl's fingers clutching the outside of the door now. _What to do..._ she thought, _what to say..._

 

The terror in her eyes drew Tina's mind back to an old memory; one she somehow wished would vanish from her consciousness and yet, at the same time, would never fade away...

 

“ _It's okay,” she said, carefully kneeling down to the boy._

 

“ _You're okay...”_

 

“I'm not gonna hurt you, don't worry.” She asserted, “I just wanna help you.”

 

Slowly, the girl emerged from behind the door, her face coming back into view, with a perplexed look on her face. “What for? Don't need help...” she began to hide again. “Just need Mama.”

  
“Well, I can help you with that,” Tina said, inching ever closer. “What's her name?”

 

The girl opened her mouth to speak, but her stomach answered for her. She wrapped her arms around herself, looking down. “Hungry.”

 

Tina smiled. “I can help with that, too,” the girl's face lit up, a smile forming on her own lips, but shrank when a finger flew up. “ _If_ you tell me your name.”

 

No response. She sighed, pulling herself from the floor to stand, placing her hands on her hips with exaggerated flair. “Well, I guess you'll stay hungry, then...” Tina said, turning the face the window behind her.

 

“Sophie!”

 

She smirked _._ Turning back around, Tina changed her face to a more innocent expression, humming at the girl in question. “Sorry, what was that?”

 

“M'name is Sophie. And 'm hungry.”

 

“I think I can help you with that.” Sophie smiled again.

 

– – – –

 

It took longer than expected to make breakfast. On more than one occasion Tina reached to take out her wand, only to remember what fate it now held. After every step in cooking, she pressed Sophie with another question, but the girl stayed quiet on the counter; holding her legs to her chest. There were a few she did answer, so Tina did know a little more than she did before: her name was Sophie. She was two ('almost three', she had insisted); she lived with her mother in this apartment and had never been outside whatever kind of building this was.

 

That was it.

 

But it was enough to raise suspicions onto who her mother really was. For that reason, Tina didn't ask that question again- it would answer itself in due time.

 

After what felt like a few hours, she set two bowls of oatmeal on the coffee table. One was far larger than the other (for herself) and the smaller for Sophie. In between, she also placed two spoons for them. As she went to grab her own, Tina looked over at the small girl, already shoving spoonfuls down, although the majority didn't seem to reach the inside of her mouth. As Sophie turned to face her, Tina could see a mask of oatmeal on her face- mostly around her mouth, but some managed to find itself in her hair, on her nose and even her forehead somehow. She smiled at the sight, but a small part of her half-dreaded dealing with this in a year's time.

 

“How is it?” Tina asked, distracting herself from the mess.

 

“S' _real_ good!” Sophie threw another spoonful into her mouth, “Thank you miss Lady!”

 

“Call me Tina.”

 

The girl nodded and returned to her food. Tina did the same, her own stomach growling as she shovelled oatmeal down. It disappeared from her bowl faster than she would have liked and before long it was completely empty. As she was contemplating making more, Sophie pointed to her.

 

“Wha's that?” she asked, her finger directed towards Tina's necklace.

 

“Oh,” she began, pulling her locket away from her neck. “this is my Mama's locket. She gave it to me before she passed away- it has a picture of every person in my family, see?”

 

Her locket opened, revealing the family tree she knew so well. She pointed at her parents. “That's my Mama and Papa,” her finger moved to herself, “that's me and my husband, and that's-”  
  
“Mama!”

 

Sophie reached over, placing her own tiny finger on the blonde girl's portrait. _I knew it..._

 

“T-that's your Mom?” The girl nodded. _Mercy Lewis..._

 

Suddenly she heard voices emerge from behind the front door, muttering in their own conversation. Tina's heart twisted in her ribcage as she dashed to hide in the side room where Sophie appeared from. There was someone else- not just Queenie. She couldn't take the risk of being seen.

 

Tina closed the door, though not fully- she left it ajar by three inches to see and hear any discussions that arose. Almost the instant her hands left the doorknob, a voice she didn't recognise materialised.

 

“Hello, Sophie!”

 

“Aunty Vinda!” _Vinda?_

 

“Did you make this breakfast all by yourself?” The woman inquired- Tina could hear the suspicion dripping from her question. Her heart beat faster.

 

“No, another lady did.”

 

“Oh, really?” Tina heard Sophie hum in confirmation. “Where is she? I'll have to say thank you to her for helping my favourite niece.”

 

She could feel her ribs begin to crack as she heard Vinda's heels click with every step she took towards her. _Click, click, click..._

 

This was it.

 

_Click, click...click_

 

She wondered what would happen to her body, where they would hide it.

 

_Click click..._

 

Or where they would show it.

 

_Click..._

 

She was going to die.

 

“Vinda- there you are!” another voice called.

 

“Mama!” _Queenie?_

 

“Hey, baby- Vinda, Boss needs you to run an errand for him.

 

“What for?” Vinda asked.

 

“Dunno, he didn't tell me. All I know is that you gotta do it as soon as you can.”

 

She heard the woman sigh, and her heels _click_ ed away. “Alright, then.”

 

After a moment, the front door closed. More _click_ ing of heels sounded and Tina's heart began pounding again. The three-inch gap grew larger and larger, the door creaking as it was pushed further on its hinges.

 

“Teen?” Queenie whispered, “You in here?”

 

“Queenie?”

 

The blonde woman emerged fully from the door, her face coated in relief and guilt. She reached over to her for an embrace, which she returned.

 

  
“Where were you?” Tina asked. “I woke up and you weren't around- then this kid turned up from in here, and-”

 

“Mama?”

 

“I'll explain in a minute, Teen,” Queenie turned around to face the door. “come out and I'll introduce you to 'Soph.”

 

“Kinda did that already, but okay.”

 

* * *

 

The three sat down together; Sophie in her mother's arms and Tina herself sitting across from them. Queenie had her arms wrapped around her daughter's waist, who squirmed slightly.

 

“Sophie,” Queenie began, “D'you remember how I told you about my big sister?” The girl nodded. “Well, this is her- this is your Aunt.”

 

“Mama, you're in her necklace,” she said, looking up at her mother's blonde curls.

 

“She is,” Tina confirmed, “and we can add you in, too, if you want.” Sophie spun her head around to face her, beaming.

  
“Really?”  
  


“Of course! All we need is a picture of you to add in.”

 

The girl began to giggle, her laugh growing infectious as she and Queenie joined in. Eventually, Sophie's laugh fell to a yawn as her eyes drooped and her form started to slump. Her mother sighed, shifting her weight to carry her more easily. Before long Queenie returned alone and joined her sister once more. The two stayed silent for a minute as a familiar wisp floated into Tina's consciousness. Queenie groaned.

 

“Do we really have to talk about that? I don't think it's necessary.”  
  


“Yes, it's necessary!” she cried, “You have a daughter!” Tina's expression became more serious. “Who's her father?” She stayed quiet.

 

“Who is it, Queenie?”

 

“I think you know who...” she whispered. Tina's face widened.

 

“This is why you were so insistent on getting married! Mercy Lewis- how did I not figure it out?”

 

“Teen-”

 

“Oh, I'm going to kill Jacob when I get back-!”

 

“Tina!”

 

“What!” she said, her face rigid. “What, Queenie?”  
  


“I need you to be quieter- unless you _want_ to get caught. And about Sophie-” Tina scoffed. “Would you calm down? Don't blame Jacob: he doesn't even know about her.”  
  


“But y-you and him, you...” Queenie nodded, and she recoiled in disgust.  
  


“Oh, grow up, Tina! It's not like you and Newt haven't!”

 

“He's my _husband!_  And nothing like- like _that_ ever happened before we got married, that's for sure.”

 

The two sighed in unison, falling back to opposite sides of the sofa. Neither spoke for a few minutes- both thinking hard; only a clock in the background providing any noise. After a minute Queenie lifted herself up, readying to leave.

  
“I gotta go do some work today- I'll be back at four-thirty,” she said.  
  


“Queenie-”

 

“I know you don't mean it, Teen. You're just bein' protective of your little sis- but I am an adult, you know. I can take care of myself.”

 

She didn't reply.

 


End file.
